Atlas Unbound
by Solaris-Prime199
Summary: Cast adrift from one uncaring universe to the next, follow our Brave Heroes as they boldly go where... uhm most shouldn't? Can Shepherd hold his temper in check? Will Rodney blow up another Solar System? Will Ronon shoot someone out of boredom? Will Talya stay awake for the adventure or simply sleep through it? Find out next in... Atlas Unbound!
1. Prologue - Damn It Rodney

**Date Published: 2017/03/31  
**

 **Date Re-Edited:**

 **Warhammer and Stargate: Atlantis, are the sole properties of Games Workshop/THQ and MGM respectively. This is a work of Fiction, as well as non-profit, and thereby complies with their 'Term and Conditions' stipulated by the Companies themselves. The only thing I seek to gain with this Literary Work; is to improve my Creative Writing abilities, and if in the process someone were to enjoy what I have written…**

 **So be it.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

– **Damn It Rodney–**

* * *

"Damn it Rodney! What on Earth were you thinking?!"

"Uhm… this could solve all our energy needs?"

"Rodney!"

"Sorry…"

"You should be, your recklessness put your life and the lives of your entire Team at risk. Damn it Rodney, you destroyed three quarters of a Solar System!"

"Well, five sixths. It's not an exact science–"

"Rodney! Can you give your ego a rest for–"

"Unscheduled Off-World Activation… I think?"

Doctor McKay let go of a very tense breath he had been holding onto for dear life, he was grateful for the reprieve–

"This isn't over Rodney."

However short it maybe…

"What have you got for me Radek?"

"I have no idea, at first I thought it was a diagnostic… but then the Cities Systems started re-routing power to the Gate–"

"It's not a diagnostic, but I can see why Zelenka made such a simple mistake–"

"Vlastni posedly kreten…"

"Rodney! We just talked about this–"

"About what?! About what Elizabeth? This is Deep-Code. You only see it when something breaks or something goes wrong. Zalenka spends his days fixing things, while I come up with ways to blow up planets!"

The silence in the Atlantis Control Room was deafening… a silence that Doctor Wier – as head of the Atlantis Expedition – felt she needed to break as quickly – and as cleanly – as humanly possible.

"Now Rodney, I know it has been a difficult day – for you… for all of us – but I need to know… is this a threat to the City?"

"No… it isn't… it's like… Zelenka I need an analogy…"

"Uhm… what kind of analogy?"

"I don't know… something about nerves and arteries… and reflexes and stuff… Go."

"Oh well uhm… think of Atlantis as a living organism. The Power-Conduits are its arteries, and the Data-Lines are its nerves. When a section of the City is damaged, the Cities Systems reflexively shuts-down the area… blast-doors… shields… and this Code appears when–"

"Not exactly correct Zelenka," Rodney interrupted from where he was standing hunched over a laptop, "but close enough–"

"Zvanili debil–"

"To build upon Zelenka's flawed analogy, Atlantis has two types of systems… Conscious and Subconscious. Most Conscious thought is directed through the Control-Room. It's also the epicentre of most of the Subconscious thought, all the Deep Code originates and terminates here. It's kinda like… going to a High-School Reunion and recognising someone, not by how they look, but how they act… like one of my old classmates Joe Wokowski, guy always used to run his fingers through his hair when he was nervous, he runs a chain of fast-food restaurants now–"

"Rodney focus–"

"Yes-right… so, the City is constantly monitoring all its sensors, it actually dedicates a small portion of its considerable processing power to the task and two-and-a-half minutes ago it received a short Data-Burst via Sub-Space–"

Doctor Weir was the first to ask, "do we know what it contained?"

"No, but we do know protocol it activated, because it was recorded in the Cities Dialling Computer–"

"I was there," Colonel Shepherd muttered gruffly, "the Gate didn't connect. I thought only successful Dialling Sequences where recorded in the DHD?"

"Nice to know someone listens, and normally you'd be right, however the Gate did activate but only for a fraction of a second. Long enough to transmit a sequence of letters… using the same protocol we used to contact Earth a few months ago–"

"I thought you wrote that?"

"I lifted it off the Ancient Database, and for your information Shepherd, the Atlanteans used that program to send a handful of characters at a time… a couple of words or maybe some video, all within the same Star-Cluster. It took me a week just to get the System to recognise our Coding Language, and another two days rewriting the Dialling Protocols to contact another Galaxy–"

"Yes, yes, your very clever Rodney, what's the message say," Colonel Shepherd muttered harshly, as he leaned over the console to get a look at the Laptops screen himself.

"Seven characters," Rodney muttered in return, "looks like a Gate-Address–"

"Where was it sent from?"

"Ah… give me a second – that can't be right–"

"Rodney? What's wrong?" Doctor Weir questioned, rather concerned that the usually quite verbose scientist had gone silent.

"Doranda… it was sent from the Space-Gate in Orbit around Doranda…"

"How's that possible?" Shepard grumbled, his brow knitting in confusion, "I thought we just blew up the whole system–"

"Five-sixths–"

"Maybe the Gate was blown clear by the blast?" Zelenka offered by way of explanation.

"Impossible," McKay spat irritably, "even a tenth of the energy from that blast would have sent the Gate super-critical ten thousand times over–"

"What about the Address in the message, is it in the Database," Doctor Weir redirected before Rodney could get going on one of his infamous tirades.

"No… it's all wrong anyway, Carters algorithm puts the Co-ordinates somewhere in the Milky-Way Galaxy… nowhere in range–"

"Wait a minute!" Doctor Weir cried out after a moment of sudden realisation, "each glyph on the Stargate represents a sound, if we read out the Gate-Address–"

McKay cut the Doctor off, clearly seeing where this was going, "En-Les-Zi-Es-UL-Mu-Att… gibberish–"

"Not necessarily… it would be difficult to remember such a long stream of letters," Zelenka muttered absently, "try it phonetically…"

After a moment or two, he stopped and looked up, finally noticing the surprised looks of all the staff in the Command Centre, "what? It's how I learned English, such a confusing Language, it's easier to remember it in smaller bits…"

"Right…," Doctor Weir replied, the first to recover from that surprising little fact about the Polish Physicist, "Rodney?"

"Yeah?"

"The Address?"

"Oh yeah… give me a minute, I haven't done this since High-School," Rodney muttered as he copied down the Address onto a small note-pad, a few scribbles later and, "done… E-L-Z-E-U-M… A… well, at least not all of its gibberish–"

"The last glyph isn't an A…," Doctor Weir muttered in a stunned whisper, "it's the Point of Origin…"

"Earth…," Shepherd hissed in surprise, his eyes widening at the realisation, "there's another undiscovered Outpost on Earth–"

"No, not on Earth," McKay muttered distractedly, his fingers flying across the keys of the Laptop in front of him, "the original Ancient Protocol was for use at very short range. The two Gates have to be in the same Cluster, the Sender has to be in range–"

"Can you give me some Co-ordinates Rodney?" Shepherd enquired as he leaned forward, looking over McKay's shoulder, trying his damndest to decipher the gibberish scrolling down the screen.

"What do you think I'm doing," Rodney muttered irritably, as he continued to whack away at the keyboard in front of him as if he had a grudge against it.

Several tense seconds later they got their answer… sort of, "I can't tell where the signal is coming from, other than it was in range of the Dorandan Gate–"

"How far is 'in Range' exactly," Colonel Shepherd enquire suspiciously, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Six hours by Jumper, eight tops–"

"Woah! Back up… I may not have as many fancy letters before my name as you do, but what I do know is; that if we open a Wormhole to the Dorandan Gate, the moment we drop the Shield to let the Jumper through the radiation will kill us, not to mention anyone we try to send through."

"Not right away," McKay muttered petulantly, he didn't exactly refute the Colonels claim either, "the radiation shouldn't be able to travel back up an out-going Wormhole… theoretically."

That didn't exactly engender any confidence. Rodney fell silent as he started to pace, clicking his fingers all the while, after his third circuit of the Control-Room, Doctor McKay had his Eureka moment.

He spun round, pointed to Zelenka, cried "Hermes" and sprinted from the Control-Room… leaving a lot of very confused people in his wake.

"What just happened?" Shepherd muttered to the room at large.

His question was – however – superseded by Doctor Weir asking one of her own, "Who's Hermes?"

"Not a 'Who', a what…," Zelenka stated simply, at their confused looks he clarified, "Hermes is a little project me and Rodney have been working on in our spare time… we've been trying to replicate a Jumper – small scale of course – our Prototype can fly – well hover really – we just got the inertial dampeners working, but the… ah Cloak has been a little bit more tricky–"

"And just how big is this… Prototype?" Colonel Shepherd muttered worriedly, the thoughts of Rodney tinkering around with Ancient technology was… disturbing… well, after Doranda… it was just a bit more disturbing than usual.

Such apocalyptic thoughts were quickly derailed however by Rodney's triumphant cry of, "I present to you… Hermes!"

Moments later a small white tube, with a fish-eye lens on the end, floated into the Control-Room… a very familiar looking white tube…

"Isn't that the UUV, that Doctor Miron in Underwater Cartography reported missing last week?" Doctor Weir muttered in exasperation at the thought of Rodney stealing from other departments to…feed a hobby, "please tell me you had a good reason for taking it Rodney?"

"He wasn't using it–"

"He couldn't use it because you took it!"

"Elizabeth! Breath…," Colonel Shepherd soothed, getting between the two scientists before one of them ended up throttled, "okay Rodney, it's very nice… what do you want to do with it?"

"Send it through the Stargate–"

"No way!"

"Come on John, a few tweaks to Hermes emitters and he can pass right through the Shield… we'd never have to drop the Iris once…"

Curiosity peaked, Shepherd turned to Zelenka and asked, "can you do that?"

"Certainly, give me a few minutes and I could re-modulate the–"

"Done," McKay cried out smugly as he tapped a button on his repurposed Life-Signs Detector.

"What about the radiation?" Colonel Shepherd enquired, doing his utmost to ignore that smug look on Rodney's face, lest he get the urge to take a swipe at it.

"The risk should be minimal," Zelenka replied, as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose–

"Define **minimal** …"

"Five – maybe ten percent–"

"I don't like those odds, no matter how small–"

"Now wait just a minute–"

"We could mitigate those risks," Zelenka asserted, before an argument could break-out, "evacuate the Gate-Room, and dial the Gate from a Jumper in the Bay… the Drone certainly has the range…"

Silence fell heavy on the Control-Room, as all those present waited for a verdict. Shepherd was contemplative, his gaze solely on the orange-red beam of the Ancient Console in front of him. Doctor Weir was similarly engaged in thought, her focus however was squarely on the Stargate in the Room below… the risks were obvious, the rewards… not so much. The silence stretched on, first ten seconds… then thirty seconds… then a minute… two. The tension was palpable… and just when it looked like Rodney was going to start fidgeting–

Shepherd tuned to Weir, Weir turned to Shepherd, the Colonel gave the Doctor a nod, and Weir gave the order, "get it done. I'll order a general evacuation of the tower."

With that, Weir stepped up to the nearest Console and activated the P.A. system… Colonel Shepherd was already making his way out of the Control-Room, Rodney in tow. Halfway down the grand stair-case, they ran into a returning Tayla and Ronin, both of whom appeared rather curious over the evacuation that was being staged around them.

"What'd we miss?" Ronin Dex, the more blunt of the two asked.

Shepherd his usual glibness rising to the occasion, replied, "oh nothing much… Rodney blew up a planet and I think we just found a missing Ancient City… you coming?"

* * *

 **This is one of my new stories, I hope you like it.  
**

 **I wrote it using transcripts of season 3 (and all the others besides), and by watching Stargate: Atlantis while I wrote this, in the hope of best capturing each of the actors as they were portrayed, their character and behavior.**

 **I will be updating this story at the same time as Upon The Wings Of Eagles V2.**

 **I attempted to write this Story in an episodic fashion, it didn't work out.**

 **I've got 10 Chapters so far, covering only the end of 1 Episode.**

 **I may write more or I may get writers block, but you will get at least 10 Chapters of this.**

 **Expect the next update on 30/04/2017.**

 **P.S. I'm also writing a Stargate: SG-1/Infinite Warfare Crossover that is much more promising that is currently 14 Chapters in and actually manages to follow the series episodic format.**

 **P.P.S. The Crossover is called: A Matter Of Time and I will be uploading along with my other two stories next month.**

 **P.P.P.S Yay!**


	2. Chapter 1 - Oh No Not Again

**Date Published: 2017/05/01  
**

 **Date Re-Edited:**

* * *

 **Warhammer and Stargate: Atlantis, are the sole properties of Games Workshop/THQ and MGM respectively. This is a work of Fiction, as well as non-profit, and thereby complies with their 'Term and Conditions' stipulated by the Companies themselves. The only thing I seek to gain with this Literary Work; is to improve my Creative Writing abilities, and if in the process someone were to enjoy what I have written…**

 **So be it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

– **Oh No… Not Again–**

* * *

"Team Three, level two clear… moving to extract."

"Team Two… Infirmary clear. Escorting Doctor Beckett out now…"

"Team Eight, all personnel evacuated. Sealing ZPM Room…"

"This is Major Lorne, evacuation complete… awaiting your word Colonel Shepard…"

"Very well, you're in charge until we get back–"

"You assume we're going somewhere–"

"Just waiting on Rodney," Colonel Shepherd continued, completely ignoring McKay's outburst, "Colonel Shepherd out."

"You know, we could've used Jumper Three–"

"I like Jumper One," Shepherd muttered irritably.

"Just saying… not like we're going anywhere–"

"Then why did you bring you're Pack Rodney?"

McKay looked down at the heavy-duty backpack lying at his feet guiltily, before snapping, "I don't see you–"

Shepherd raised a fully loaded P90 he'd strapped onto his vest ten minutes earlier with one hand, while he hoisted a small backpack sitting next to him into the air with the other. That shut McKay up real fast.

"Well, it's not like I planned it that way," Rodney muttered as he continued to run a diagnostic on the crystal panel above his head, "we're just taking a look, there might not even be anything–"

"So, when are we leaving?" Ronon interrupted as he walked onto the Jumper, he was still wearing his tan-leather coat.

He too had come prepared, with his Blaster in one hand and a rough brown satchel in the other.

"We're not–"

"I too would like to know the answer to that question," Tayla announced as she sat down in one of the rear seats next to Ronon, who unlike the Satedan, had taken the time to change into her expedition uniform.

"I keep telling you, we're–"

"We're just waiting on McKay, who really should be focusing on that diagnostic," Shepherd replied pointedly, as he went through a basic pre-flight check of his own.

"Fine, fine, I'm done anyway," McKay muttered, as he sidled into the Cockpit and plonked himself down in the Co-Pilots chair.

"So what are we waiting for?" Ronon muttered impatiently.

"We're waiting for **someone** to finish re-routing the Shield Controls to this tablet," McKay muttered waspishly, as he continued to type away at the tablet in his hands.

"Well could **someone** hurry it up, we haven't got all day," Shepherd snapped back, not once looking away from the controls in front of him.

"I sense that they are trying not to speak to each other," Tayla noted curiously from her seat.

"I got that feeling too," Ronon muttered distractedly as he checked the cell in his Blaster.

"Shouldn't we do something?" Tayla enquired worriedly.

"It'll sort itself out," Ronon muttered in return as he holstered his Blaster.

"And if **it** doesn't?"

"I could always shoot one of them–"

"There will be no shooting of anyone," Shepherd snapped turning away from the Console in front of the him for the first time, "how much longer McKay?"

"Just a second," McKay replied as he took a Life-Signs Detector from one of his vest pockets and slotted it into the Control-Panel above the Dialing Computer, he quickly tapped a trio of keys around the Device and barely a second later the screen in front of them lit up.

"What's this?" Shepherd muttered suspiciously.

"The data-feed from Hermes," McKay responded evasively, "thought you might want to take a swing at Piloting it–"

"Just Dial the Gate," Shepherd replied coldly as he started a final diagnostic on the Jumper.

"Dialing…," McKay responded just as emotionlessly, as he quickly inputted the Gate-Address.

There was a loud whoosh like sound as the Gate activated in the room below them, followed shortly thereafter by a buzz as the Iris-Shield activated–

"Radiation-levels woah…," Shepherds inquiring was cut short as a graph appeared on the screen next to the feed from the Drone, "looks normal, how'd it do that?"

"Hermes is just an empty-shell, all its brains are in here," Rodney replied smugly as he patted the Life-Signs detector docked in the dash.

"Cool… everybody ready," Shepherd asked over his shoulder, at his Team, one nod from each of them and he had a hand on his radio, "we're sending in the Drone–"

"Hermes–"

"Sending the **Drone** …through now," Shepherd retorted as with a thought the view from the Drones feed changed as it lifted up into the air.

The feed wobbled for a moment, before the Drone shot toward the event-horizon. There was a white-out on the feed shortly thereafter–

"Did we just lose the Feed?"

"No, that's just the Ancient version of static – they've got better transmitters than us – give it a minute… there we go…"

McKay was right, as a mere moment later the white-out cleared to show a deep dark velvet field of stars twinkling away.

"Radiation levels looked elevated… I think," Shepherd muttered, mostly to himself.

"No more than to be expected," McKay murmured absently as he started tapping away at his tablet, "this can't be right…"

"It looks safe to me," the Colonel replied as he tried to suss out what was wrong with the radiation levels on his own.

"That's just it, it shouldn't be… the fallout from a blast that big, the background radiation should be five – ten – no… a hundred times more than it is right now… this doesn't make sense. Give me a Scan of the System," McKay muttered absently, his attention focused solely on the readings he had just sent to his tablet.

"How do I do that?"

"Think it…," Rodney stated simply, when Shepherd didn't respond, McKay snapped, "ask yourself a question; what does the system look like?"

"Really?"

"As easy as that… there we go," McKay called out cheerfully, the Doctor fell silent real quick after he caught a glance of the transparent screen.

"Well Rodney… looks like you didn't blow up the whole Solar System after all–"

"Five-sixths," Rodney muttered, less out of denial, more out of habit… after a moment he clarified, "this can't be right…"

"Looks okay to me," Ronon opined from his seat, "nine circles, no fire, no rubble, can we go now?"

"That's just it, there's too many satellites in System… there were five planets in the Dorandan System – only one of them was habitable," McKay clarified as he started running the Data through his tablet, "I'm reading seven – no… make that nine celestial bodies – at least three of them habitable."

"I think McKays right," Shepherd grudgingly admitted – mostly to himself, "I don't remember Doranda having three suns–"

"It only has one," McKay insisted… absently.

"Kinda looks like–"

"Did you take Astrophysics in University?" Rodney snapped snidely, after pausing a sarcastically long period of time, he continued his diatribe, "well I did, the one in the middle is the Systems Star. The one on the right is a Hot Jupiter, probably an extra-solar capture–"

"What's a Hot Jupiter," Shepherd asked simply, partly in the hope that it would stop Rodney's techno-babble, and partly in the hope that McKay would actually answer the damn question.

"It's a Gas-Giant that got too close to its Sun… think… Venus. To close, to hot, more than seventy percent of the light directed at the Gas-Giant is reflected back out into Space–"

"And the other one?"

"Same deal, might be a Hot Neptune though… to hot, to close, different composition… hmmn."

"That doesn't tell us how the Gate got here," Shepherd pressed, before offering his own suggestion, "maybe it got blown clear–"

"That still doesn't explain the Gate Address, the computer built into the Gate should've automatically corrected for interstellar drift… different location, different address… this doesn't make any – hold on a minute… I'm picking something up…"

A moment later a small red blip appeared on the view-screen near–

"What's that?"

"Something powerful, something big… ZPM big," McKay muttered as he tried to figure out what they were looking at–

"Where exactly… that looks like some kind of Moon–"

"That moon is at least twenty times the size of the Earth, and that Gas-Giant has to be at least five times larger than Jupiter–"

"What about the other Moons?"

"They're habitable, but no signs of an advanced civilization… give me a minute, a few tweaks and… there… woah…"

Woah was right, more red dots were appearing by the second… many more.

"There's got to be hundreds… thousands–"

"Millions…," McKay hissed, his eyes as wide as dinner-plates, "not all of them as powerful as a ZPM… but still…"

"How long… uhm… how long would it take us to fly from the Gate to the Moon?" Shepherd inquired, pointing at the largest concentration of dots, to remove all doubts about where he intended to go.

"Six to eight hours by Jumper, ten at most," McKay replied earnestly, waiting for Shepherds response.

The Colonel was silent for a long moment, he then reached for the radio clipped to his vest, "you get all that Elizabeth?"

"Loud and clear, we've been observing the feed from the secondary Control-Room…"

"Your thoughts…?"

"It's more than a simply anomaly… this… aberration, contradicts fundamental principles we have – up and until now – come to believe are inviolable…," Doctor Weir fell silent for a moment after her short, but passionate speech… clearly she was weighing the risks, "you'll be a long way from home, any re-enforcement could take more than six hours to reach you–"

"We could use Hermes to remote-Dial the Gate," McKay asserted, his tone sounded… desperate, "it wouldn't be instantaneous, but we could relay hourly reports–"

"Check-in every two hours," Doctor Weir instructed, before Rodney could make anymore… improbable promises, "you have a go… good luck."

With that the Channel went dead, and Shepard finally turned to face his Team, "you heard the lady… Road Trip!"

"You did not just say that… you did not just say that…," Rodney kept muttering… over and over… again and again, even as the Jumper lifted out of its stall and hovered down into the Gate-Room–

"What's wrong McKay," Ronon taunted the very pale looking scientist, "the thought of being stuck in a small metal tube making you feel queasy?"

The Jumper slowly rotated until it was facing the open Wormhole, and still Rodney kept repeating his Mantra.

"Come on it's not that bad," Shepherd insisted glibly.

"You know I get car-sick, you… bastard," Rodney hissed in return, his arms straight out and braced against the forward Console.

Tayla meanwhile was frowning at the strange behavior of both McKay and Shepherd, honestly she didn't know what to make of it, "what is this… car-sickness… that seems to be afflicting Doctor McKay so severely?"

"In a couple of hours he'll be fine… after mile, after mile rolls on passed…"

It was Rodney that got the last word in however, just as they passed through the Event-Horizon, " oh no… not again…"

* * *

 **Hope I capture the angst between Rodney and Colonel Shepherd, their little arguments were some of my favorite moments of Stargate: Atlantis.**

 **Anyhoo... this story is still no way near as 'Episodic' as I wanted it, nearly 20 000 words typed and I'm still nowhere near finished ONE SINGLE BLOODY EPISODE!**

 **But that's okay, half the fun in writing is the process... if you don't enjoy writing its not worth the hassle of putting pen to paper.**

 **Anyway expect the next update on 2017/05/01.**


	3. Chapter 2 - Well That's New

**Date Published:31/05/2017**

 **Date Re-Edited:**

 **Warhammer and Stargate: Atlantis, are the sole properties of Games Workshop/THQ and MGM respectively. This is a work of Fiction, as well as non-profit, and thereby complies with their 'Term and Conditions' stipulated by the Companies themselves. The only thing I seek to gain with this Literary Work; is to improve my Creative Writing abilities, and if in the process someone were to enjoy what I have written…**

 **So be it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

– **Well That's New–**

* * *

"So… are we gonna just keep ignoring each other… or are we gonna talk about it?"

"Talk about what Rodney? That you asked me to trust you? That you blew up a planet? Or that you almost got us all killed?" Shepherd growled coldly, as he turned to glare at the contrite scientist sitting next to him… his hands still on the Jumpers Controls.

"I suppose I deserve that. Look, I just, uhm, I wanted to apologize about what happened. I was wrong – I'm sorry. **And** I wanted to assure you that, uh, I intend on being right again – about everything, effective immediately."

John couldn't help but snort at that.

"That was a joke…," McKay muttered uncertain of how his poorly delivered line was received.

"Good one…," the Colonel returned absently.

McKay quickly realized, that if anyone was going to take the first step in repairing their friendship, it would have to be him, so biting the bullet, McKay said his piece, "Look… I've already apologized to Elizabeth… and Radek… and I thanked Colonel Caldwell for, uhm, caring enough to spy on the experiment from Orbit. I sent him a nice little email actually. But I saved you til last cause, um, honestly, I would… I would hate to think that recent events might have permanently dimmed your faith in my abilities, or your trust. At the very least, I hope I can earn that back."

Shepherd was silent for a bit clearly thinking over what McKay had just said, eventually he offered, "that may take a while…"

"I see…," McKay replied despondently, clearly not expecting such a cold response.

"But, I'm sure you can do it, if you try. Can we move on now?" Shepherd grumbled sarcastically, "I'm not good with this touchy-feely crap… besides… I've been looking at this map for hours, and something is starting to seriously bug me…"

"Like what?" McKay inquired, alarmed, as he quickly started scanning the HUD mounted image for threats that he couldn't see.

"These dots here," Shepherd pointed to a cluster of red dots a little to the right of the Systems largest-Moon, "when we came out of the Gate they were right on top of the others, now their… **here.** "

"Hmmn…," McKay muttered as he started tapping away at his large impact-resistant tablet, "I see it–"

"And?"

"Give me a minute, give me a minute… I just need to crunch the numbers–"

"Well hurry up Rodney, we're less than ten minutes out–"

"Less than that," McKay muttered ominously, as his fingers started swiping even faster across the tablets screen, "not sure how long, give me a second…"

"Could be a forced-perspective, saw something like that in Afghanistan, almost over-shot the drop-zone–"

"Nah, I've already accounted for that – our movement, theirs," McKay the lifted up his tablet-PC and compared the Data on his tablet, with the Data on the Jumpers HUD, "their closing in – accelerating – ETA… three minutes…"

"Great…," Shepherd muttered as he did a quick check for the Jumpers system, "wake up Ronon, we may need his wonderful people skills."

"Er–"

"Couldn't sleep," came the gruff Satedans response.

"Huh, then who – oh…," Shepherd fell silent, as he caught sight of just who was awake at the back of the Jumper, and exactly who wasn't.

Ronon sat hunched over in his seat, elbows resting on his knees. He had his Blaster out in one hand, the power-cell for said weapon in the other. He popped the brass coated cell back in place, and with a flick of his wrist snapped the loaded chamber back in place. Such an action wasn't overtly threatening, then again, Mr Dex wasn't exactly known for his conversation skills–

"Rise and great the day," Ronon muttered as he gave Teyla's boot a swift… nudge.

The Athosian in question, who up until that point had been demonstrating an impressive pair of lungs for a woman of her stature, jerked awake suddenly–

"Have we arrived," Teyla inquired groggily, a tad bit startled as she quickly regained her bearings.

"Not yet, but we're about to have some company…," Shepherd replied his attention still on the Jumpers holographic interface, "Rodney–"

"Thirty-seconds!"

The cabin fell silent, everybody scanning the velvet heavens beyond the view-screen… fifteen seconds… ten seconds… five, four, three, two… one…

"I don't see anything," Ronon muttered nearly a minute later.

Teyla was equally confused, "shouldn't we have witnessed some kind of Hyper-Space window? Are we sure this is the correct location?"

"We're sure…," Shepherd muttered, not the best explanation… and Teyla's very eloquent eyebrow clearly expressed her dissatisfaction with the Colonels answer, "they're traveling sub-light same as us, Rodney–"

"Eh-eh-eh, shhhh!" McKay snapped, waving his hand for silence, a moment later after tracing a finger down the screen of his tablet, Rodney started frantically tapping at a section of the view-screen, "enlarge this section… here!"

"O~kay…," Shepherd muttered in confusion as he squinted at the small field of stars Rodney was gesticulating at… much to his surprise it worked.

A new screen sprang to life, right in front of the Colonel, it showed–

"What am I looking at?"

"Well… it's not naturally occurring–"

"I can see that–"

"Whatever – just… slow us to one quarter impulse–"

"This isn't the Enterprise Rodney–"

"Just – stop the Jumper, power down the weapons, make us look as unthreatening as possible–"

"It doesn't work that way–"

"Then think happy thoughts – okay – and try not to piss-off our new friends… whoever they are, they're big–"

"How big?"

"Wraith Hive big…"

"You can tell all that from those four little triangles," Ronon muttered, clearly quite suspicious of what he was hearing.

"Six," McKay corrected petulantly, "look they're at extreme visual range, we may not be able to make out much but the Jumper can… speed, trajectory, relative weight–"

"Relative weight?" Teyla felt the need to ask, clearly she didn't quite understand and if the frown stamped across Ronon's brow was anything to go by, the Satedan didn't quite understand it either.

Fortunately before Rodney could throw his highly verbose cerebral weight behind the conversation, Shepherd stepped in and gave his own two cents, "Colonel Caldwell complains about this all the time, the inertial dampeners keep setting off alarms every time the Daedalus accelerates during a combat maneuver. It has something to do with the mass of the Sensors–"

"It's a bit more complicated than that–"

"Later Rodney, later… are we in radio range yet?"

"We're still about thirty light seconds out, there'll be a delay–"

"How long?"

"Thirty seconds for the signal to reach them, thirty seconds back… maybe two minutes?"

"Okay," Shepherd muttered an affirmative as he reached for his radio, "this Colonel John Shepherd of the United States Air-Force, to all unidentified vessels on approach… please respond… now we wait."

And that's exactly what they did… for the first few minutes… by minute five the general air of patience was wearing thin… by minute ten tempers were beginning to fray as well.

"I don't like this," Shepherd declared as he reached for the Jumpers controls, "I'm getting us out of here, Rodney, how close are they?"

"Wait a minute! Wait a minute! They–"

"There's no time–"

"They're still twenty light seconds out – listen!" McKay pulled Shepherds hard back before he could restart the Thrusters, "maybe they didn't receive–"

"Rodney, Zelenka told me how the new radio's work. I use my radio, the Jumper relays the signal. They heard us–"

"Once again, Zelenka is technically almost right–"

"Rodney!"

"Okay, okay, fine… Zelenka's right… but the Jumper only relays the signal on just one frequency. They might not even be listening to it–"

"And I suppose you have a better idea?"

"Give me a minute–"

"You have thirty seconds, and then I'm–"

"Fine, fine," McKay rattled off, as he pulled out his crystal interface cables.

One end got plugged into a socket under the flight console, the other into Rodney's chunky impact resistant tablet. Some break neck tapping by Rodney's energizer-bunny-like fingers, and a few quick taps of some ancient keys, and McKay was–

"Done-go!"

"Okay… this is Colonel John Shepherd of the United States Air-Force, to the unidentified vessels on approach, please respond…," Shepherd announced clearly and calmly, unbeknownst to the Colonel, on nearly every radio frequency known to man… he repeated the message two more times just to be sure, "now we–"

"Colonel Shepherd, this is Captain Nathanial Craft of the Retribution of Calth, you are violating restricted – sovereign – Space. State your intentions…"

If the Colonel was surprised by the sudden – lag-free – transmission, he didn't show it…

"We are explorers…," Shepherd stated, choosing his next words very carefully, "we had already… **explored** , this region of space. As far as we knew, this system was uninhabited…"

The Captains reply was long delayed, clearly he was… uncertain as to what he should reveal, "our arrival in this system was… unintentional… and not something that should be communicated over an open Vox-Channel, Colonel."

"Understood, permission to come aboard Captain…," Shepherd asked in turn.

"Granted Colonel, the Emperor – pardon me…," the Channel fell silent, in the background someone was having a hushed conversation, the details of which none of the occupants of the Jumper could make out, "I've just been informed, Colonel, by the Master-At-Arms that the Enginseers are having trouble initiating the Rites of Docking, are your ships cogitators functional?"

"I'm afraid our small… er-shuttle doesn't have an… uhm-auto-docking function," Colonel Shepherd replied, a moment later after he had… determined the meaning behind the more archaic sounding phrases, once he did Shepherd offered, "I am more than capable of completing a manual docking, Captain."

"Very well, I'll have the Master-At-Arms douse the Landing Lights for the other bays," the Captain fell silent for another few moments, before returning to explain, "my ship is the largest in the Squadron, the assigned Launch-Bay is to the Starboard, and… yes-er… understood… you have been assigned to berth twelve. Commissar Stanforth will meet you there, and escort you to the bridge, Craft out."

"Commissar?" McKay muttered darkly, "that sounds unpleasant–"

"Doesn't it just," Shepherd replied sarcastically, "okay, I'm talking us in."

With a thought the drive-pods activated, and the Jumper glided towards the Retribution at a deceptively fast pace. They crossed the distance in the blink of eye. The sextet of small white triangles transformed into the massive sloping prows of six mighty vessels, each a leviathan in its own right. Each a giant made up of sweeping Gothic arches, bristling with turrets and gun-ports. Up close they could see a thin green chevron emblazoned across the bow of each mighty vessel, as well as a trio of gilded roman-numerals, however they sped past… too fast to make out the numbers–

"There it is–"

"I see it," John replied, as he slowed the Jumpers approach and swung it round to face the flank of the great Gothic edifice, lining the bronze-green tube up with landing lights of the center-left cavern, "Retribution we are on final approach."

"Understood," replied a very metallic sounding voice, that was most certainly not that of Captain Craft, "may the Omnissiah light your path."

A moment later as they passed into the Hanger, their radios all emitted a strange feed-back–

"That was unusual," Rodney muttered, "probably some kind of force-field… maybe."

"Probably," Shepherd replied, the 'hey… what do I know about force-fields' went unsaid, as he swung the Jumper around and lined it up with an empty berth – between two boxy craft – in a space marked XII.

The shuttle settled with a soft thud, not that Rodney noticed as he was already out of his seat, "You coming?"

"Slow down Rodney, we need to wait for our escort–"

"Bah, we can meet them half-way," McKay replied excitedly, Shepherd was halfway certain that if it wasn't for his heavy-pack, Rodney would've been bouncing up and down like an impatient toddler.

Miss Emmegan wasn't as… enthusiastic, "are we certain the air outside is breathable?"

"Yes, yes, the Jumper say it's safe, can we go now?"

"Sure Rodney, let's just charge blindly into First Contact with an strange unknown alien race–"

Clearly McKay ignored Shepherd's attempt at humor, because the Colonel hadn't even finished his sentence before the scientist swiped a hand over the sensor by the rear hatch. The sight it exposed left Doctor Rodney Meredith McKay speechless, a fact that many who knew him would remark upon at a later time and place. Colonel John Shepherd – on the other hand – wasn't so… encumbered.

"Well that's new…"

* * *

 **Here's the next Chapter enjoy. Not much to say that I haven't already said in my other AN at the bottom of Chapter 4 in; On the Wings of Eagles.**

 **See you next month.**

 **Next Update: 30/06/2017**


	4. Chapter 3 - This is Why We Can't

**Date Published: 2017/07/02  
**

 **Date Re-Edited:**

 **Warhammer and Stargate: Atlantis, are the sole properties of Games Workshop/THQ and MGM respectively. This is a work of Fiction, as well as non-profit, and thereby complies with their 'Term and Conditions' stipulated by the Companies themselves. The only thing I seek to gain with this Literary Work; is to improve my Creative Writing abilities, and if in the process someone were to enjoy what I have written…**

 **So be it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

– **This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things–**

* * *

John Shepherd had seen a lot in the last year and a half. Traveling to another Galaxy had the tendency to broaden your horizons. Then again maybe the Colonel just had a knack for finding trouble. This, however, was a new one…

"What… is it?" Shepherd hissed under his breath to a shell-shocked McKay, never once taking his eyes off the… mechanical monstrosity standing in front of them.

McKay – in an oddly uncharacteristic display – had nothing to say, he just watched the strange… stitched together creature… shuffle passed them towards the Jumper. The… Cybernetic Thing… who's designers had clearly plumbed the deepest darkest (and most twisted) depths of the perverted mind of Doctor Victor Frankenstein to create such a twisted thing… **It** paid them no heed.

It just stomped passed them, the pipe for its arm mounted – no… the Nozzle was its arm… trailing behind it. The creature was a grotesque sight with its brass skull-like face, unblinking red eyes, the hissing re-breather that had clearly been bolted to its face… god it was awful. It's 'uniform' was no better, the tan sack-like material looked like it had been riveted in place, the hob-nailed boots looked no better–

"What is it doing?" Teyla inquired, she seemed more curious over **what** it was doing rather than **what** it was.

Shepherd had no idea and since Rodney had yet to regain his greatest super power… colloquially known as speech, their resident scientist wasn't in the position to speculate. All that was left was–

"Don't look at me," Ronon responded gruffly, as he threw his brown leather satchel over his shoulder, "I've never seen one of those before–"

"The Servitor is attempting to refuel your Craft," declared a very British sounding voice from behind one of the nearby Space-Craft.

The man who stepped out from behind the Craft was tall and dressed in black. Up close Shepherd, and his Team, caught a quick glimpse of him, before–

"Commissar William Stanforth, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," the giant of a man introduced himself, "the poor blighter can't find the Promethium Cap. Not that I blame him, I've never seen a Craft quite like it…"

"It… it's-erhm, it has an internal generator, no need for fuel… I think," McKay muttered finally tearing his eyes away from the poor damned thing, before admitting, "it's quite old, we've… er-never had to refuel it before…"

"Ah a Relic," the Commissar proclaimed sagely, what that was supposed to mean the Atlantean Team had no time to inquire, "if you'd follow me, my men will escort you to the bridge…"

As Commissar Stanforth quickly ushered them towards a nearby bulkhead, they passed dozens of bustling crewmen in thick-tan space-suits and plenty more of those Frankensteinian Cyborg-Creatures.

"Through here," the Commissar directed as he stepped through a large Gothic-archway, they were met on the other side by almost two dozen heavily armed men and women in dark body armour with full face masks and helmets, "it is customary that – although quite often futile – that I request that you relinquish your arms…"

"They're for self-defense," Colonel Shepherd insisted cautiously, neither making any moves that could be considered threatening nor backing down, "and with all due respect, I would prefer to keep them with us…"

"I understand Colonel, my men and I will endeavor to ensure that such preparedness is unnecessary. Now that the formalities are out of the way, the Captain is awaiting our presence on the bridge," and with that flowery declaration they were on their way.

The corridors they passed through were a bustling hive of activity, each corridor was more than wide enough for six men (make that six heavily armed and armoured men) to walk abreast – shoulder to shoulder. There were a myriad of uniforms on display. From the rough Space-Suits of the Deckhand, too the blue-grey dress uniforms of various armed crewmen going about their duties. Occasionally they'd pass by a red-robed man or woman, shepherding along more of those cybernetic creatures, but they were few and far between.

It was a good fifteen minutes into their journey, that Shepherd started to notice a pattern. There may have been hundreds of blue-wearing-armed-guards, a thousand or more tan-wearing-sailors and more red-robed… people… than you could shake a stick at, but there was no-one more heavily armed than their escort… and no-one wearing armour quite like theirs.

Shepherd had so many questions…

"Nice Ship you got here," was as good as any place to start.

"Indeed," Commissar Stanforth replied with a chuckle, "by your wide-eyed stares, I suspect that this is your first time aboard a Imperial Naval Vessel?"

"First encounter period," McKay muttered irritably, before the Colonel could stop him.

The scientist didn't seem to care, he was too busy scanning the walls, floors, ceiling – hell – nearly anyone they walked passed, with his Life-Signs Detector. The Commissar wasn't all that surprised by McKay's outburst…

"Then we are further out from the Galactic Rim, than Command initially feared," Stanforth replied gravely, as he marched forward unflinchingly.

Clearly this was a sore topic, so Colonel Shepherd decided to bravely change the subject, "so… fancy kit your boys got here. Not a lot of it going around by the looks of it."

"Ah, but of course… the Arms-men, make up the bulk of the ships security forces. Battlefleet Fellspire recruits them primarily from the PDF divisions on Mara Prime, the work is hard and often thankless, and it kills almost as many as it maims…," Stanforth stated calmly, with the air of a man who'd long since come to terms with his lot in Life.

The evidence of the Commissars claims were as plain as day; of the two or three dozen Arms-men they had passed in the last minute-and-a-half, there was perhaps twenty or thirty cybernetic limbs between them all.

The Commissar was quick to return to topic at hand, his men, "while the Planetary Defence Forces make up the bulk of our standing military, it is within the Grenadier Regiments that our true pride rests. Each man a veteran, with more than a decade's experience, equipped with the finest arms and armour our Planetary Forge can provide. From the finest Lysndes-Pattern Hellguns to our unique Carapace-Exo-Skeletons… we expect the best and we provide them with the best. Take Simmons here," Stanforth extolled, as a broad leather clad hand found its way onto the shoulder of a nearby Grenadier, "he was awarded medals for Valour and Courage Under-Fire more times than he dares to admit, a veteran of the last War on Armageddon–"

"Your too kind sir," the Grenadier in question – Simmons – replied quietly, "just doing my duty. Never did step foot on Armageddon, Throne-Be-Praised, spent most of the time repelling boarders in contested space. Filthy Green-Skins, always did bring a smile to my face watching one of their death-traps burn-up on re-entry–"

"Ha! Good man, this Colonel is what we strive to cultivate. Well trained, well disciplined… calm under fire, but by the Emperor, ready to unleash a terrible vengeance at a moment's notice upon the enemies of man," at that declaration, every single one of the Grenadiers stopped and cried–

"BLOOD AND FURY! FOR THE EMPEROR!"

The sudden display of such fervor was startling, what was even more… alarming… was just how quickly the Commissar managed to bring his men back in line, "good, good, however we have a schedule to keep… as you were."

The Grenadiers were quick to reform their ranks around Shepherds Team, a smooth fluid grace that the Colonel hadn't noticed before, not until Stanforth had pointed it out so… artfully. It left John with so many questions, best to start small…

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to answer a few more questions Commissar?"

"You're a guest Colonel, but of course ask your questions, if I can answer… I will."

"Could you explain some of the… symbolism around us?" McKay snapped before John could get a word in edgewise.

Stanforth was more than accommodating, "such as?"

"The arches, the brass, the steeples–"

"Ha ha ha, I'm afraid your asking the wrong man my friend. My knowledge is more… Martial in Nature, and while my schooling at the Schola Progenium was broad… it was not that broad."

"Oh well, uhm… Ronon any questions?" the Colonel asked the man bringing up the rear.

"Are we there yet?"

"Ha-ha, very funny," Shepherd muttered as he paused to think for a moment, his eyes drifting across the pale grey plates of their armed guard, "One-Two-Two-Three… I see that nearly everyone of your men has it stamped on their armour, that's their division number right?"

"So much more," Stanforth replied knowingly, "it's not much of a secret, we adopted the Cadian Military Unit Identification Standard in the early 32nd Millennium. First number is the platoon, then the Company and finally the Regiment. Take Simmons here… sound off Trooper!"

"Corporal Simmons. First Platoon, Second Company, Twenty-Third Voidwalkers, sah!" the Trooper in question called out mid-march, saluting but not breaking step with the rest of the formation.

"Good to know, Com–"

"Pardon me Colonel, but we're nearly there, no sudden movements," the Commissar warned as they marched through a final Gothic arch, into a broader chamber beyond.

The chamber was very brightly lit, but as his eyes adjusted the Colonel could make out more and more of the room. They had entered a heavily fortified chamber, there had to be more than fifty Grenadiers entrenched between the thick sloping walls. There were at least three heavy weapons positions that he could see, the spotlights didn't exactly make it easy, add to that there was only one way into the Chamber–

"It's a Chokepoint," Ronon muttered impressed, "good one too–"

"Quiet!" Simmons hissed, waving them to silence.

Ahead, Commissar Stanforth marched forward until he stood directly in front of the first barricade–

"I Request Access to the Bridge!" the tall officer called out over the heads of the men in front of him.

"Name and Rank!" returned a challenge from the shadows behind the spot-lights.

"William Stanforth! Fleet Commissar!"

"Hold and Await Confirmation!"

The atmosphere in the chamber was tense, they all stood ramrod straight, none more so than the Commissar, waiting… waiting…wai–

A small blur shot out over the fortifications, gliding – hovering – toward the Commissar. The spotlights made it hard to make out, but when it stopped moving–

"What the–"

"Shh!"

A hushed silence filled the chamber. There, in front of Stanforth, was a human skull. The deathly visage floated directly before the Commissar… its right eye-socket glowing an ominous bloody red. The eye began to glow, brighter and brighter, until–

The all-clear given, Stanforth waved them forward, the barricade in front of them lowering into the floor. They quickly made their way passed the entrenched positions towards a wide cargo-elevator in the rear of the chamber.

Stanforth waved anyone who tried to speak to silence. They passed three more check-points, each more rigorous than the last. By the final check-point – the one with the quartet of skull-faced turrets sticking out of the ceiling – the group was starting to get nervous… well except for Stanforth, and Ronon, and the Grenadiers, and Teyla… and Shepherd–

"Calm down Rodney," Shepherd placated the nervous scientist, "I'm sure we're almost there–"

"Yeah, well I felt that last one."

"Infra-Sonics," Commissar Stanforth muttered as he rubbed his right shoulder uncomfortably, "it's used to detect low-tech suicide-devices. Implanted explosives, volatile blood chemistry…"

"Is all that security really necessary?" McKay muttered petulantly.

"Sadly, it is… we're here," Stanforth announced, as he led them into a vast multi-tiered Chamber.

The place was a marvel, rivalling anything found on Earth, the Muriel on the vaulted ceiling alone could certainly give the Sistine Chapel a run for its money. The bridge was a hive of activity, each of the arching platforms filled with dozens of those macabre Cyborgs overseen by almost as many red-robed wardens and blue-clad Officers. There was enough gold frogging in the room to circle the Earth ten times over.

Stanforth led them across a gantry over the rear most stations towards a dais, at the highest – center-most – point in the Chamber. They passed several more Grenadiers, as they made their way to the dais… even from a distance it seemed very crowded. Officers in blue and gold, robes of all shades… blue, red, white… even an impossibly tall Cyborg with a gilded wide collar… all gathered round an austere man seated upon a small throne, arguing with a tall blond woman wearing a dark navy hooded cloak.

They were met a short distance from the Throne by a broad-shouldered man in a dark greatcoat over a set of Grenadiers Carapace-Armour, he had dark hair going grey at the temples, and introduced the man as, "Major Diarmad MacDonnchadh, he's in overall command of the Second Company–"

"There's no time for pleasantries," the Major snapped harshly, his accent was a strange balance between an Irish Brogue and a Scottish Burr, "we're becalmed, but the Navigators… **sensing** … some-thin'–"

"All we can do is–"

"Perhaps we can help," Colonel Shepherd offered stepping forward, "Doctor McKay is well versed in the Local Threats, Rodney–"

Shepherd turned to find that McKay wasn't standing behind him, in fact he was standing further away looking over the shoulders of one of the Cyborgs hardwired into one of the stations that ran along the edge on the Command Dais.

"Rodney–"

 **Boom.**

"Rodney! What did you do!"

"It wasn't me! I swear!" the next blast threw them off their feet.

"Ow… This is why we can't have nice things," Shepherd muttered from the floor.

* * *

 **As you can see, I am trying very hard to be funny, but not too funny. Also I tend to only name the chapter once I've written the last funny remark, which should hopefully explain the monster of a Chapter Title.**

 **Not making much progress writing more Chapters on this thing, but I am about 4 Chapters into a pretty good Mass Effect x Deus Ex Crossover (with a little Syndicate thrown in for flavor). Here's hoping that playing Dawn Of War III might help turn that around. The chapters are averaging about 8 and half thousand words, so far.**

 **Oh, and be very glad I'm posting this now and not around mid-night. I'm tired now, and I almost forgot to post… and then I almost posted Chapter 4 instead of 3.**

 **That would have been embarrassing.**

 **Next Update: 2017/07/31**


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